Category Archives: Asperger’s

I’m here for you. For as long as you need me.

I was going to go into detail, tell you of my story but right now I can’t. I can’t because you don’t need to hear my story right now, you need to hear that I will understand yours. If I can’t understand you, I will listen and empathize. I will give you my hand, lend you my shoulder and certainly be a sounding board. I chose these pictures for you because in them I saw my past, I saw my friends, I saw my struggles and I saw the messages I needed so long ago. The reason I became who I am today, I wanted to be the person that I never found so long ago. So these are for you and me.

I am here for you. For as long as you need me.

Sparkles,

Shaye

Xoxo

 

Advertisements

It Takes a Village

They say that it takes a village to raise children, but what about when you don’t have a village. What about when it’s only you? What about when you think you have done something right and then you realize that you may have made a mistake, screwed it all up and it not only breaks your heart but it breaks the hearts of your children too.

b7d7098f83b7685523040c5f4f8b8828

My kiddos were too young to know when their father and I split up. They never grew up with them until my oldest was four and my youngest two. Even then he wasn’t a constant in their lives. My Wolf was the constant from the ages of 3 and 1 to just about 7 and 5. They knew him, they trusted him but I was comfortable and I knew that the relationship wasn’t going to come to any sort of fruition. Then there was the Demon, for lack of a better name for him. I was sure, totally sure about him, he helped take care of me when I was a sick 17-year-old for fucks sake, but his alcoholic and cocaine fueled rages at me when the kids took to bed proved too harsh on me and I had to let him. The next day Charming rode into my life, and he was home. He was everything I knew about home. He was the first man I ever truly gave my whole self to. That self-was whole in the least, it was broken fragments and I wasn’t ready to be the woman he needed me to be. I lied…A lot. To protect me from hm and to protect him from me. Because I was scared. He took to my family quite quickly and made promises of forever, but forever wasn’t as long as it turned out to be. A year and a month later and it’s over and he’s gone.

ed8aa2f6f33b404d0683c6f170021f04

I wrote this to a friend today and I think it is quite pertinent to my situation –

The hardest part about being a single mom is the fact that unless somebody’s ready to be in a relationship with you and your children there can never be a clean break. It sucks to think that every person that I’ve had in mind and the kids live excluding friends has been able to walk away with the peace of mind and the children’s hearts and they don’t realize what can be causing it. It sucks to think that somebody can put that much damage and that much heartbreak on my kids lives. I love all of my friends for sticking around and all of my friends for taking all of the roles they have in the kids lives because we’ve basically spent nine years alone. But I think I just want to find someone eventually one day that’ll be able to keep the promises they made for the kids and not leave them as broken as they’ve tried to leave me. Is that ridiculous or does that sound like something I can be Wishing on a Star for because honestly I don’t know at this point?

It’s the truth….It takes a village, even if that village is spread over the internet community.

Shaye

xoxo

22f20ef7dc13157c116484ee60ac60bf

 

 

Children and Autism

I am not going to sit here on a platform and talk about Autism. I am not going to give you my story, not right now at least. I am merely here to show you a picture. A picture of love, a picture of understanding, a picture that means more to me and more to advocation that any I have ever seen.

Three years ago I posted this picture with this caption.

Most grownups don’t understand Aspergers. My three-year-old daughter does…
Jayson said “Kay I’m not feeling good, I forgot my blanket I need pressure”, this is what she did. No questions. No fighting. They are watching tv…I love my kids

Ribbet collage

Three years later, she is still the only one that totally understands him. They may argue, antagonize and all those things that siblings do. But when he needs something he can’t communicate, she is there, and taking care of him.

Contemplation of well…Everything

“The world keeps spinning, and the tales keep turning, and people come and people go, but they’re never forgotten. And the one truth we know, it held true one more time… That love, true love, the really, really good kind of love never dies.” – The Book of Life

4451d31bfb1d3495d0d0ecf132002f58

I am lucky, lucky that I have kids that let me see movies through their eyes. One child who has the eyes of faerie light, magic and wonderment no matter what the movie is. She keeps my heart light and my mind creative. One child who has a mind that never stops, figuring things out before they happen. He keeps me on my toes with ideas and my mind sharp.

We have more than once watched this movie and every time, we have found something new to love about it, whether is be the details on the guitar to a new quote, it is such a well-done movie. Today I woke up towards the end. My self-sufficient kids let me sleep in as I have not been feeling great these days. I couldn’t find the quote I was looking for to start this entry with but this one seems to work just as well.

I have had a lot of thoughts lately, thoughts I can’t describe because I can’t understand them myself. It goes from high to low so quickly I feel like I am doing every single dance you can think of that my brain has sorted itself out. I know one thing that has crossed my mind, It is a sad and happy thought. It seems that ever since I miscarried all of my friends have gotten pregnant, my friends and my family (the ones that I am close to at least). And I am happy for them, I swear it, but it hurts. It’s the really good love, but no one says that really good love doesn’t hurt some of the time.

f2163726b38efec33782621618d8eb7a

I wish I Knew what was holding me back from doing things that made me happy but I don’t. Charming says its depression, which it probably is. But there is something else, I look at myself and just want to give up. I hink about a year ago and I was self-confident 100 pounds lighter and happy with myself. And now I have a wonderful man, two glorious children, two classes to go to a diploma and I just lost myself somewhere.

I am filled with that really good love, and I know I am surrounded by it, but I lost myself somewhere. Somewhere in between stretching to help everyone else and losing focus on my own goals.

I started writing my books, but I have nothing to say, the characters went quiet. I started taking pictures but I have no urge. I just feel lost. I want to grasp onto  that really good love and let it fill me up…but for some reason I still tell myself I don’t deserve it.

Love how this post went from happy to sad.

with that I will stop talking

Shaye

35f52e07e9284342e4da69fab73a9469

Maybe Dumbledore Isn’t Always Right – Rebecca Ethington

One of my favorite authors and closest friends posted this on Facebook a few days ago. I found it so profound, and you don’t usually find stuff like that on FB anymore. It summed up so many things, what ifs and lonliness, bullying, and just not knowing when to reach out and help someone or when to ask for help for yourself.

Never be afraid to reach out and help those in need, never be quick to judge because you never know what that woman behind that mask or the man behind the curtain are really like. Sometimes it isn’t east to click your heels together three times, sometimes their is no faerie godmothers. But there is always you, and that is good enough for me.

d73449ae64406947927af1801783a1e7

“There is a scene in the final Harry Potter where Harry and Dumbledore meet at a place between life and death, and in that space they see a piece of Voldemort’s soul – this quivering, whimpering, ugly child, shoved underneath a bench.
And Harry, tries to go to it, convinced it needs help. And Dumbledore tells him not too.
I’ve always hated Dumbledore for that. Yes, Voldemort is evil, did he probably deserve what’s coming to him – yes. And I am in no way comparing myself to that quivering whimpering child, hidden away in pain.
But we have all been there.
We have all been so full of loss and heartbreak, and agonizing defeat, and sadness, and rejection. That we have all been there.
We have been that forgotten child in the corner, a deep part of us just shaking and crying and desperately hoping that someone would just come over and pull us out of the dark and hold us while we cry and comfort us until it all goes away.
I know I have.
And chances are, when you are there, you don’t know how to ask, or maybe you don’t have anyone to turn to anymore. You are alone, and you can hear people talking on a bench and your crying out for help, but they don’t come to find you.
So take this with a grain of salt. But you know those “whiny” posts everyone complains about on Facebook? Yes, some of them are just negative people. But what if some of them… just maybe… where people so lost and alone and scared and so desperate for help that they are asking for help the only way they know how. That maybe they just need that hug, or that phone call with a real voice.
I can’t believe I’m going to say this… but maybe sometimes we shouldn’t listen to Dumbledore. Because maybe sometimes they need our help, our compassion, our empathy and our love. Don’t be afraid to reach out – because people are people – but they are also human. And in this crazy world, we can’t do it all on our own.” – Rebecca Ethington

902160c9fc04b1de8747e0c8bb711606

We Have Apples

So there is this wonderful mental illness blog that I follow by Rachel Griffin called We Have Apples. A little bit ago she had put up a post asking for pictures, both uplifting and at our times of trouble to put in a music video for a project she is doing. Let me give it to yo in her own words (it pasting it from her site)

“As a lot of you know, I’m a singer/songwriter in New York City with a fabulous life…. and a mental illness! (the two can go together! And errr.. it wasn’t always that way! LOL) I am so passionate about mental health awareness, ending the stigma, and connecting with other warriors like you! I am also writing a musical about these topics.More about the mental health musical I’m writing, We Have Apples, can be found on the website. You can also hear songs there. (But the song for this video is not released, yet- You’ll be the first to hear it, though!) If you want, you can sign up for the show’s mailing list to be kept posted on the development!:)

I was just selected as a Dramatists Guild Fellow, which means this year I will be working on developing We Have Apples with Broadway professionals!

More about my career as a singer/songwriter at: Rachel Griffin Website. This info I’m giving is not because I want to brag, but I want to tell you a little about my career so you know this song and video we are going to make will be high quality and could do very well! 🙂 I’ve won two National songwriting contests, recently wrote a song for an internal Macy’s campaign, and I have a publishing deal for a few of my pop songs.”

Well I participated in this as mental health is a very important subject to me….Obviously. I am keeping my fingers crossed that I will get to work it Rachel in the future. But here it is…..My debut in a music video….Pass and share it is so important!!!!

Heartbroken (Conclusion of I Can’t Breath…..I Hope)

 

real dad

As I wiped the tears away from his little face and held him in my arms and tried to explain to him that he did not have to wear a cape to be a superhero I internally cursed his fathers name. We had not planned ahead for this day, Charming and I had assumed they were making stuff at camp not that we would have to send them dressed as super heroes. And our boy, well he always wanted to be different. I call him our boy because he is. Charming is more of a Dad to him than Trip will ever be.

real dad1
Trip…Oh Trip. I don’t even have words anymore. After all the put us through, the kidnapping, the court battle, the drain in money. The child support paid whenever the hell he felt like it during the month(he couldn’t get in trouble as long as it came during the right month). The arrears that were smaller than the damn vet bills he paid for his and her dog and still, STILL, he couldn’t be a real fucking father to his children. 

At first it was every other weekend. And for a week last summer, because by the time the papers wee written up that was all that was left. But he didn’t want Labor Day, which was his. Then Halloween, he wanted the weekend before, cool that’s cool we had a rockin Halloween just the kids and I. He had them for Christmas and I gave them to him for New Years, because I felt it right since i had them the year before. 
I dread the holidays, I dread that I will have to give them up on the important ones, I missed Passover this year because he got them for Easter and it was the same weekend. *sighs* I have to drive so far to meet halfway and considering I don’t make even half as much money as she does it is a strain on my wallet. When the holiday falls on a Sunday they are supposed to be brought home, guess how often that happens?

Then it started to get weird. He finally got a job (oh by the way he lived off of her for YEARS because he could so technically she was paying child support not him), and he doesn’t get his schedule till the Friday before ad so I have to move my whole schedule around just in case. I refused.
Mind you I have done it once or twice but it has led to late pick ups (which I was always reamed out for mind you, so now I am always early), or canceling visits. Instead of spending the weeks after school let out with him they stayed with my mother for two weeks, and instead of being with him for Fathers day he ditched them. For his dog, her son and her grandson. At that point he hadn’t seen them since Pixies recital and even that he was late for *shakes head*

He turned around and instead of taking him for a week, he took them for two days over the 4th and then told me he would be working out of town for 3 weeks and didn’t know when he would be around again. He doesn’t call, doesn’t try. But he fought so hard to be a father….Why? Why try to take our lives away? WHY?

superhero3
So as I wiped the tears from my little mans face and explained to him that the cammos and gray shirt represented the real life heroes that protect our country everyday. That Charming and various family had all chosen to be everyday heroes are so much cooler than superheroes, he continued to weep because he just wanted to wear a shirt like his Father in the Navy.

superhero2
I was heartbroken. I found a shirt, it wasn’t his fathers, it was from my Wolf who had given it to me as a souvenir a long time ago. But he didn’t need to know that. The tears stopped flowing and he saluted me. He told me now he was a real superhero like his Father. I bit my tears back.

As I hugged him goodbye I told him that he was MY superhero, because everyday he struggles to figure out how people work, he struggles to be accepted and make sure that he is understood. He fights so hard to just be him. And that makes him MY superhero. He kissed me goodbye when there was a knock at the door, his parting words were…

“I love you Mommy, you will always be MY Superhero”

all my love
Shaye
xoxo

superhero1

The Children are Our Future

In January 2013 I posted this on a page for single moms with autistic kids on FB. Within minutes it when viral. Or at least viral for me. Over 30,000 likes and over 5,000 shares on just that page alone. I have no clue where else it went. An old friend of mine tracked me down through this photo today and told me how much hope it gave her. So I wanted to share it with you this morning. These two are my reasons to keep on trucking. Because they are our future and our future looks bright. (I’ve included the original post below the photo). Feel free to share away397594_485473171491649_2057575986_n“Most grownups don’t understand Asperger’s. My three year old daughter does… Jayson said, “Kay I’m not feeling good, I forgot my blanket. I need pressure.” This is what she did. No questions. No fighting. They are watching TV…I love my kids.”

I will write more on Aspies and Autism and our family’s struggles and victories at another time but I wanted to share that with you and this with you. Everyday is something brand new when you have a kiddo on the spectrum, it wonderous and exciting, it is terrifying and sometimes you just want to cry. But the rewards are so worth it.

Always

Shaye

xoxo

aspergers